


Counting the Days

by ravenlowe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Season 8 Spoilers, season 9 setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenlowe/pseuds/ravenlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment Crowley was lucid enough to realize where he was, he began keeping a tally of his days locked away in the Winchester's dungeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 5

**Author's Note:**

> Counting the Days is an assortment of drabbles crossposted from my tumblr. They follow Crowley as he slowly regains his sense of self after the Season 8 finale and begins plotting his escape from the Winchester's clutches.

**Day 5**

 

"Feeding time."

The whiskey-rough tones of the older Winchester broke Crowley from his reverie and brought the demon crashing back into the reality of his situation. The painful reality. He could still feel the Moose’s purified blood coursing through his veins trying to transform him into something new, and mostly succeeding despite the ritual having been abandoned.

Crowley wanted to weep and beg but, in the face of his captor made blurry through the magic cast on the bars that were keeping him trapped here, all he could do was smile tiredly and rasp, “You look like shit.”

The hunter rolled his eyes and stepped back from the bars, taking his offering of food with him. “You know. I don’t know why we’re even bothering keeping you alive. It’s not like we don’t have enough to deal with without pampering your sorry ass.”

He stormed away from Crowley’s gloomy little corner of dungeon with a frustrated growl, and Crowley was glad for it. He didn’t want the Winchester’s ‘kindness.’ He didn’t want their food. He just wanted to be left alone. It was better when he was alone. Alone with the poison running through his veins and the screams that echoed in his ears.


	2. Day 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of self-harm.

**Day 14**

Blood.

It was in the blood.

His blood.

It didn’t have to be. Blood could be drained. It wasn’t like his body wouldn’t produce more.

New blood.

Blood _free_ of the taint that was driving him down this path of insanity. He didn’t want forgiveness anymore. He just wanted to be _free._

Crowley bit savagely into one wrist and then into the other, cackling as the self-inflicted pain brought on a clarity that he hadn’t felt in days.

It was unfortunate that the noise brought attention to his little hovel. This time it was the Moose storming into Crowley’s cell, hand on one wall for support as he took in the scene with wide eyes. “Biting again? Really?”

"Can’t fight the classics," Crowley quipped, smiling wide with bloodied teeth.


	3. Day 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Use of Pink Floyd lyrics for nefarious purposes.

**Day 16**

_“I hear you’re feeling down. I can ease your pain. Get you on your feet again.”_

Kevin Tran is standing guard outside his cage.

Kevin Tran, Advanced Placement, Prophet of the Lord.

Angry, weak, and oh so easily ruffled Kevin Tran. “Will you just shut up, Crowley? I didn’t sign up for this.”

_“There is no pain you are receding.”_

 

After his little nearly bleeding out incident there’s been a mostly constant guard posted outside his door. Crowley supposes it’s his own fault for not explaining that he wasn’t really attempting to off himself, but then again he thinks the whole lot of them are daft if they think they could stop him if he actually wanted to die.

_“The child is grown, the dream is gone.”_

 

"Stop singing!"

It’s too soon to say if his actions actually did well…anything, but Crowley imagines he doesn’t itch quite so much, that the burning in his veins is somehow less. He could be kidding himself, but he’s decided to be cautiously optimistic about the whole thing.

_“I have become comfortably numb.”_


	4. Day 20

**Day 20**

Crowley’s just completed the newest tally mark when shuffling outside his cell draws his attention. This time it’s the Moose, looking pale and shaky but still determined. What does he have to look so determined about?

Luckily the hulk of a man doesn’t keep him waiting for long and cuts right to the chase. Crowley appreciates that, really. He does. “What’s in Florida that Abaddon would level a building to get?”

"How should I know?" Crowley shrugs and leans back against his elbows. "I’m just a salesman, after all."

Sam makes a frustrated noise and runs his fingers through his mane, which is looking particularly limp today. “Don’t bullshit me, Crowley. You asked me how someone like you starts to look for forgiveness. This is it.”

Crowley smiles up at Sam, wide and toothy. “That was over two weeks ago, mate. You could say I’ve gotten it out of my system. You want information from me now? You’ll have to get it the old fashioned way. Bribery.”

"We’re not letting you out, so you can forget it."

"No one’s asking you to," Crowley interrupts before the boy can get upset and sashay out. "Let’s start with something simple, say, a bed. This cold hard floor isn’t doing my back any favors, you get it? Sound like a deal? One bed in return for everything you could ever want to know about what’s lurking under Florida’s pristine white sands?"


End file.
